


First dates

by PoemAboutCitylights



Category: Sports RPF, Tennis RPF
Genre: First Date, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 09:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14912868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemAboutCitylights/pseuds/PoemAboutCitylights
Summary: "You want to take me out for dinner? Like... Like a date?"A soft chuckle was coming from the other end of the line."Sure, buddy. And don't forget to wear your best suit!"





	First dates

Nick and Sascha had always liked each other in a way that would have left the potential to become great friends, the best of friends.  
They had used to laugh about the same jokes and it had been just generally easy to get along, few words needed to know what the other was thinking.  
They had shared work out sessions and had met up for a few beers in the evening after a tournament but somehow, it had never grown to more than that.  
They had never become the best buddies that the media wanted to portray them as.  
They had never hung out away from the tennis bubble, never phoned another to check on them or visited each other's homes.

And Nick couldn't tell why they had never crossed that line, it wasn't like he didn't like Alexander enough or that he didn't want him as a friend.  
Well, he knew why HE was keeping his distance from the blond German.  
Looking back, he couldn't tell when he had developed feelings for the younger player. Probably somewhere around that time when they'd still been talking and Nick had dragged Sascha along to an underground club a few times to grab some beers.  
And he really couldn't be blamed, could he?  
One would have to be blind to not fall for Alexander, with his blond locks and tall frame.  
Plus, Sascha was hot.

And Nick hadn't been exactly keen on letting the German know that he was crushing on him or, respectively, trying to get into his pants, for Nick wasn't particularly known for being good at keeping his emotions hidden away.  
It was a pity though.  
He would have loved to have Sascha as a friend, a real friend, not just a locker-room-small-talk friend.  
He sometimes felt like the media was of the opinion that all the player that were just decently getting along instead of full-face hating on each other had to be best mates.

He wished it was that easy, though.

So he was surprised when his phone went off during his practice, searching for it in his bag while droplets of sweat were running down his face.

"Nick?" Alexander asked once the Australian had picked up, as if it hadn't been him to call Nick in the first place.  
God, how long it had been since he had heard that voice for the last time.  
"What's up, mate?" he asked, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat.  
What reason could Sascha have to phone him?  
At the other end of the line, the other player was clearing his throat.  
"You're in Monte Carlo right now, aren't you?"  
"I reckon I am."  
"Wanna hang out?"  
Nick frowned, staring at the racket in his hand as if it could give him the answers he was looking for.  
"I guess I gotta knock back, mate."  
"Oh," Alexander said and it sounded heavily disappointed, making Nick's insides twitch.  
"Why, though?" Sascha then asked, his voice a bit lower and less cheery than before.  
"Dude, Monaco is bloody expensive and I'm on a limit."  
"I'll take you out!" Alexander suddenly exclaimed, "I mean, I wanted to take you out either way!"  
Nick's neck grew hot, very glad that Sascha couldn't see his face right now.  
"You wanna take me out?"  
Why would Alexander do that?  
Was he-... Could it be that-...  
"Yeah, let me take you somewhere fancy. There's that restaurant by the harbor, on a boat, actually."  
On a boat?  
Sascha wanted to take him out to have dinner on a bloody boat?  
Was he trying to-... Was this something romantic?  
Was this going to be a date?!  
Nick hated how the butterflies in his stomach fluttered around all of a sudden, making him feel funny in his belly.  
"You want to take me out for dinner? Like... Like a date?"  
A soft chuckle was coming from the other end of the line.  
"Sure, buddy. And don't forget to wear your best suit!"

Nick wasn't nervous.  
No.  
He certainly wasn't.  
A better fitting description would be to say that he was freaking out.  
Sascha had asked him out on a date. Out of nowhere. After weeks of not really talking to another.  
It was a date, wasn't it? Alexander had said it was. And he had told him to dress up.  
Nick hadn't brought a suit to Monte Carlo, of course he hadn't.  
So he had driven to town to buy a pair of nice looking pants and a matching navy blue jacket.  
He wasn't the type for black suits and he certainly didn't feel like the type for ties either, but that's what one was expected to wear to these fancy as fuck restaurants in Monte Carlo, right?  
So he had bought a bow tie instead. He'd learn how to tie it by a youtube tutorial, he had thought.

And now, a couple of hours later, he was standing in front of a mirror in his hotel room, adjusting the bow tie and running his hand down the smooth fabric of his white button down, straightening non existent crinkles.  
He had to admit that he was looking pretty decent.  
Would Sascha like it?  
Hell, he couldn't remember any other time that he had actually wondered what another person would think of his looks.  
He usually had more of an 'I couldn't care less' attitude when it came to the opinion of others. But not this time.  
This time, he just really wished that Alexander would like the suit and the bloody bow tie.

He had declined the German's offer to pick him up and instead they had agreed on meeting at the harbor, so Sascha had texted Nick the address.

 _Don't freak out,_ Nick told himself while he was strolling down the promenade, _he asked you out on a date._  
That had to mean that Sascha was liking him back, didn't it?  
Maybe not as much as Nick liked Alexander but at least a tiny little bit?

When he came closer to the boat, decorated with outdoor light strings that were reflected by the water while the sun was already low in the sky, he could spot the German player's tall figure.  
He was facing the other way, so Nick could approach him in secret.  
When he stopped behind the younger one's back, he couldn't help but frown at Sascha's choice of clothes.  
In a sharp contrast to Nick's suit, he was wearing beige shorts and a salmon coloured shirt, like those he'd be wearing at the French Open. Casual everyday clothes.  
And still, Nick could feel his heart beating in his throat, because Alexander looked gorgeous, his blond locks long and wild as always, his shoulders a little stronger than when he had seen him the last time.  
Nick mentally slapped himself and told him to keep his shit together.

He couldn't tell whether Sascha had heard his sharp intake of breath or if it was due to something else, but the German suddenly turned around, facing the Aussie.  
Nick witnessed the younger one's eyes widening when his gaze roamed over the older player, who felt his neck growing hot once again.

"Wow," Sascha eventually said and still didn't tear his gaze away.  
Nick smiled nervously, something very unlike himself.  
"You said I should dress up, right?"  
"I-..." Alexander started and there was something in his eyes, close to disbelief, that Nick couldn't interpret.  
Didn't he like his outfit?  
Back in the shop he had thought that he looked rather good in it but he was clearly just making a fool of himself. He should have sticked with his usual style.  
"I-..." Sascha started once again but Nick cut him off, sparing him the embarrassment.  
"We should get on board."  
"Yes!" Alexander called, a little too loud and a little too hasty, waiting until Nick had set a foot on the restaurant boat.

"I made a reservation," Sascha said when they were approached by a waiter, "the name's Zverev."  
They were lead to their table in what Nick suspected to be the front of the boat, making themselves comfortable while the Aussie couldn't tear his gaze away from Sascha's face.  
Should he tell him for how long he had been dreaming of this to happen?  
Had Alex been dreaming of it for ages as well?

"So," Alexander said and interrupted the silence that had spread between them, a smile playing on his lips, "how is it going?"  
"Pretty okay," Nick answered, nervously tabbing his fingers against his thigh under the table.  
He flashed Sascha a grin, "Great, actually."  
He hoped that Alexander was aware how happy he was with their date.  
It wasn't like he had ever been on a proper date with a bloke before.  
Sure, there had been a few hook ups and he had taken out some girls on dates back home in Australia, but he had never made the effort that Alexander had clearly made with planning theirs.

He took that as a chance to have a look around, at the nicely decorated tables around them that began to fill up with couples and the lights that were hanging above their head, almost like fireflies dancing in the sky.  
Nick usually wasn't one to have a thing for such stuff but it wasn't really nice.  
Romantic.

"Does the boat leave the harbor? Onto the sea, I mean?" he asked and Sascha nodded.  
"Year, the tour takes about 2 1/2 hours. So we've got plenty of time."  
Alexander smiled and Nick returned it, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders after all these months that he had had to keep his distance from the German in order to not make a move he'd regret later.  
Who would have thought that Sascha and him had apparently been on the same side of things?  
He had to be incredibly lucky.  
"How are you?" Nick asked, gaze fixed on Alexander's smile. He would grow addicted to seeing it up so close.  
"I'm glad you said yes," Sascha answered and was that a blush spreading on his cheeks? Nick swallowed.  
"I'm glad you asked," Nick replied.  
The younger German nodded, "Someone had to make the first step, right?"  
Nick couldn't agree more.  
"I wouldn't have had the guts," he admitted almost sheepishly, not able to meet Sascha's gaze.  
"Why? It's just me, Nick. Nothing to worry about!"  
Nick's eyes shot up.  
"Just you?" he asked, chuckling lowly while he was shaking his head.  
"It's never _just you_ , is it?"  
Sascha frowned at him and tilted his head.  
"What do you mean?"

Nick rolled his eyes and chuckled. So Alexander wasn't the fastest to catch up on compliments.  
But the waiter came to ask for their order, interrupting the moment, and when he was gone, Alexander asked him some questions about his tournament schedule, pointing out that they would see each other plenty of times this year.  
Nick's chest warmed up at that.  
The boat left the harbor, like Sascha had said it would, when their order arrived, appetizers and a beer for each of them.  
The sun had set now, leaving the German's face illuminated by the lights, his hair glowing golden in the shade of it.  
Eventually, Nick cleared his throat and decided to just go for it.  
"Ehm," he made and caught Sascha's attention, growing nervous under the intense gaze of his bright eyes.  
"I've got to admit that I've been thinking... dreaming... of this," he made a gesture that included the both of them, "for quite a while."  
A deep frown appeared on Alexander's face, leaving Nick slightly irritated.  
"Well, if you did, why didn't you just ring me up?"  
"You really think it's as easy as that?" Nick asked in disbelief, shaking his head.  
Of course Sascha would think of it as that simple.  
He was the one with the stunning looks and charming smiles.  
No wonder he had no problem with asking people out.

When Nick looked up again, his gaze was caught by Sascha's lips, pinkish and wetted by his beer and so very _tempting_ that Nick had to hold himself back from just leaning in and kissing the German.  
Would he be allowed to do that?

"Do you kiss on first dates?" Nick blurted out, cheeks flushing red.  
There it was again, that irritating frown on Alexander's face before he shrugged his shoulders casually, "I guess so. Why?"  
Nick stared at the younger one.  
So he was actually not fast at all at catching hints. Would he have to make it more obvious?  
"Would you kiss _me_ on a first date?" he asked teasingly, leaning forward a little, his elbows on the table.  
The frown disappeared and was replaced by surprise and a lack of understanding.  
"Why would I kiss you?"  
Nick's stomach dropped.  
And then he understood.  
And he felt sick. Really sick. Not just mentally sick but in full on I'll-throw-up-right-here-and-now mode.  
This wasn't a date. It had never been a date. He had read the things all too wrong, he had mistaken one of Sascha's jokes for seriousness and he had made a complete fool of himself.  
Alexander didn't like him back, he hadn't taken him out on a date because he returned Nick's feelings. He had wanted to hang out with a friend, not a lover, and it all made sense now.  
Nick got up on shaky legs, couldn't tell whether his body was trembling or if waves were hitting the boat.  
How could he have been so foolish? How had he let himself believe that Sascha, Alexander Zverev, would like him back?  
He should have known.  
He pushed back his chair and felt like he couldn't breathe, the bow tie suddenly all too tight. He ignored Sascha's surprised calls, rushing past the other tables to the exit on the other side of the boat, only then remembering that he couldn't leave, of course he couldn't, being out on sea and all.

He felt like an idiot, like the biggest loser of all time, because that's exactly what he was for believing that Alexander felt what he felt, that he looked at Nick the way he was undoubtedly looking at Sascha all the fucking time.  
He stood still by the railing, staring down into the water, now no longer blue and clear but black and almost dangerous, threatening, foamed by the boat's propellers.  
"Nick!" he heard Alexander call from somewhere behind him, coming closer until he was standing right next to him, a little out of breath.  
"Nick," he repeated but the Aussie didn't turn to face him, not wanting the German to see the silent tears that had welled up in his eyes at the disappointment.  
For a couple of hours, he had let himself hope. Hell, more than that, for a couple of hours Nick had had all the things he had been dreaming of for so long and now it was all gone, ripped to pieces, shredded by Alexander's question.  
_Why would I kiss you?_

"Nick," Sascha repeated once more, "look at me, please."  
And Nick did, because what more did he have to lose?  
Alexander was staring at him, worry written all over his face.  
"So you thought this was a date," Sascha whispered, so low that it was barely audible.  
"Obviously," Nick spat out, digging his short nails deep into the palms of his hands to stop them from shaking.  
Hell, he couldn't even be mad at Sascha with how he was standing there, looking guilty, his hands deep in the pockets of his shorts.  
"Why?" Alexander asked and when Nick glared at him, he raised his hands in defense.  
"Because I'm an idiot, that's why," the Aussie answered, staring down to the water before closing his eyes, trying to suppress the pain he felt.  
"You said you wanted to take me out and - and I... I thought... and when I asked if it's a date, I thought you were serious."  
He opened his eyes and looked at the younger one, his insides still knotted up.  
"I wanted you to be serious."

"For how long?" Alexander asked and Nick bit the inside of his cheek. Why was Sascha doing this to him? Couldn't he just leave him alone, brush it off and never speak of it again?  
Nick's gaze dropped to his shoes.  
"Two years? Maybe three? Gets hard to tell it apart."  
He could hear Alexander breathing next to him.  
"So that's why-..."  
"Yes," he still couldn't face the world's number three, "I was afraid you'd realize if we got closer."

"Like this?" Alexander asked and slid his hand against Nick's, intertwining their fingers. It sent a shiver through the Australian's body, who looked at the German in shock.  
Sascha's hand was warm in his, calming.  
He could feel his own heartbeat in his palms or maybe it was Sascha's, he couldn't tell.  
"That's not what friends do," Nick said with a shaky voice, wanting to draw back his hand, but Alexander held on to it.  
"No," the German said and his thumb brushed over the back of Nick's hand, making him tremble, "but I've wanted to do it for a while. Just like this."

And then Sascha leaned down a few centimeters, until their lips were just inches apart, their foreheads touching, the German's breath hitting Nick's skin.  
And he felt his heart beating in his throat, so loud that he was sure Sascha could hear it too, or feel it.  
"This is not what friends do, either," Alexander whispered before his lips met Nick, tenderly, _carefully_ and oh so soft that Nick felt as if his legs would give in.  
Bloody Germans.  
Nick returned the kiss, just as carefully as Sascha had started it and the younger one tasted of beer and the citrus of their appetizer, along with something else that had to be utterly him.  
"If you want this to be a date," Alexander breathed once they broke apart, "then it's a date."

 

  **The end.**

**Author's Note:**

> My first shot at this pairing!
> 
> I, personally, definitely prefer Nick over Domi in terms of shipping. I like Sascha and Domi as friends but Nick and Alexander just have that special thing that makes me fall head over heels for this ship.
> 
> What about you? Sascha/Nick or Sascha/Domi?
> 
> Please leave kudos/ a comment <3


End file.
